A Love Letter to Whiskey Page 42

“Thanks.”

Jamie wouldn’t stop staring at me. God, how I loved the way he looked at me — focused, and unapologetically so. Jenna went to ask another question but he cut her off.

“Want to get out of here?”

My heart thumped hard against my ribs and I fought back a smile. “You know I hate clichés.”

He shrugged. “I also know you’ll make an exception for me.”

“Oh? Do you now?”

Jamie tucked his hands back in his pockets, his stance confident. “I do.”

Chewing my lip, I kept his eyes a moment longer before turning to Jenna. She threw her hands up before grabbing her beer. “Oh for God’s sake, go. Go before he gets me pregnant with that fucking look of his.”

I covered my laugh with my hand, mouthing a sorry to Kristen before grabbing my purse off the bar. Her eyes were wide, but she smiled and tipped her beer to Jenna’s. “We’ll be fine. Go.”

And so, I turned back to Whiskey, feeling him close enough to taste after three years of being dry, and I smiled.

“Lead the way.”

I LOVED EVERYTHING about that moment.

I loved the way Jamie’s one hand rested easily on the steering wheel while the other held the gear shift. I loved the way the warm breeze whipped in through the windows of his new Jeep. I loved the view of my feet on his dashboard as the same roads we’d driven at seventeen stretched out before us. And most of all, I loved the easy conversation, and the easy silence — because we fit so well into each.

Years had passed, there were still words left unsaid, but all that mattered right then and there was that we were together. I felt it, I knew he did, too. It was a night meant for us, and I had no intentions of wasting it.

Jamie let me choose the playlist as we caught up, him filling me in on his dad’s firm surviving the recession while I painted the picture of how I’d ended up an English major. Peter Jennison’s Longing for Home album played softly in the background of our conversation, and I couldn’t help but note the difference in tone from the last time Jamie and I had been in the same place. We were both grown now, both free from what had been wearing on us the last night we’d spent together. It was like the universe shoved us together at exactly the perfect moment, and I was thoroughly enjoying the alignment of the stars.

“I can’t believe you traded in ScarJo,” I commented, running my hands along the edge of my seat. His new Jeep was literally brand new, decked out even more than his first, and it was dark and edgy. The interior was leather and sleek, the dashboard advanced, and the paint job was matte black. Even his rims were a dark charcoal gray, and I loved the way he looked in the driver seat — relaxed, confident, sexy as hell.

He chuckled, adjusting his grip on the wheel as we took a turn. “Yeah, well ScarJo started getting cranky in her old age. I held onto her until about two months ago before giving in and upgrading.”

“Oh, I’m sure it was so hard to do,” I teased, waving my hand over the dashboard of his new baby.

He sniffed. “Yeah well, there were a lot of memories in that Jeep. I didn’t want to let her go, not until I had to.”

A heaviness settled in around us at that comment, and I felt it — I knew where the conversation was leading. We were past catching up on family and school and surfing. Jamie was about to ask me the questions I wasn’t sure I could answer, and my stomach turned with the thought of trying.

“You never came back,” he whispered. I just barely heard him over the music and I lowered the volume, pulling my feet off the dashboard and tucking them under my legs, instead.

“I know.”

“And you never answered my calls. You never called me back. You never…” his voice faded and his knuckles whitened around the gear shift.

“I know.”

I closed my eyes, resting my head against the leather and inhaling a long breath. He didn’t ask me why, he didn’t beg for an explanation even though I knew he needed one. We pulled up to a red light and I turned my head to the side, opening my eyes to look up at him.

“Nothing I say is going to make you feel better, Jamie. I have excuses, I have reasons why I pushed you away, but none of them will make up for the fact that it was shitty of me to do. I was young, I was hurting, and I didn’t know how to handle my new reality. I ran away from you, from California, because I thought it was the right thing to do. And in a way, I’m glad I did, because I needed to heal. But in a way I hate myself for how I left you.”

A muscle popped under his jaw and I tentatively rested my hand on top of his.

“My dad’s death changed me, Jamie,” I croaked, my voice unsteady. “And what I did to Ethan, it was against every moral code I had and I hated myself for losing control, for loving you when I was supposed to be loving him. It was just…” I closed my eyes again and Jamie turned his hand in mine, squeezing it, asking me to continue. “I was fucked up. And I needed time.”

The light turned green and Jamie turned his hand again, shifting the gears while my fingers rested over his.

“And now?” he asked, glancing at me briefly before his eyes found the road again. I thought about his question, wondering what exactly he was asking.

“Now, I’m sitting in your Jeep, and nothing has changed, yet everything has.”

He nodded, brows bent together as he digested my words.

“And I’m wondering how much longer you’ll fight the urge to kiss me before you finally give in,” I breathed, and he snapped his eyes to mine. “Because I leave in less than forty-eight hours, Jamie. And I need you to kiss me before I board that plane.”

Jamie tore his eyes from mine just in time to take a sharp turn. He cracked his neck, accelerating with a rev of the engine, and I watched as the want that had been hovering above us fell, drenching us completely, neither of us seeking cover.

“I’m taking you to my place. Now,” he rasped. It wasn’t a question, it wasn’t a request, and it wasn’t optional. “If you didn’t mean even a word of what you just said, you have roughly seven minutes to take it back. After that, you’re not allowed to say another word, not even my name, because I’m going to fuck you speechless.”

His words unleashed the need and it coursed through me, pooling between my legs as I forced a breath. His jaw was set, and he didn’t smile as he turned to face me, waiting. His eyes held the challenge, and he dared me to accept it, to give into him. I think he wanted me to fight him, to argue why it was a bad idea, how our timing still wasn’t right and we were only setting ourselves up on a higher shelf to fall and shatter once more. But I didn’t care. I would suffer the break if it meant I could feel whole with him for just one night.

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